


You Think You're In Control (Trust Me, You're Not)

by Kvaesir



Series: Glass Lampshades [1]
Category: Call of Cthulhu (Roleplaying Game), Dick Hardy's Investigator's Office, Original Work
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, I think that should cover it?, Underage Kissing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:28:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24953779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kvaesir/pseuds/Kvaesir
Summary: The job at the Hadley estate had been a mess. She’d gotten sloppy. She’d gottencaught.She was lucky Alice had been there, lest she fared worse than some bruises and a broken rib, courtesy of Hadley’s men. Courtesy of Henry.Ruth is 17 in this.
Relationships: Kinda - Relationship, Ruth Bowers/Henry
Series: Glass Lampshades [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806043
Comments: 5
Kudos: 6
Collections: Dick Hardy's Investigators Office





	You Think You're In Control (Trust Me, You're Not)

She’d just thrown her bag onto the bed when there was a creak of floorboard behind her and seconds later, a knife at her throat, one arm pinned behind her back. Her rib ached from the position, still healing after the incident at the Hadley estate.

“Hello, princess.” The breath tickled her ear, sending a chill down her spine. She didn’t need to see him to know who it was. After all, he was the reason she’d been on the move for the past few weeks. Henry.

Ruth smiled to herself, unable to resist despite knowing she ought to keep her mouth shut. “So what, you’re prince charming?” 

The man scowled, blade pressing harder into her neck. Alice would be back soon, if she could keep him talking until then, they could outnumber him. She turned slightly to look at the clock, metal biting into her skin at the movement. Then again, it was already 3:45. Alice had been adamant she’d be back at 3:30.

It was Henry’s turn to smile, chuckling. “You don’t really think we’d make the same mistake twice, do you?” 

She wanted to believe he was lying, trying to get her to panic and make a mistake. After all, Alice was older, more experienced than she was. Then again, Ruth had never considered the day she’d be held at knife-point in her own bedroom. And hubris had always been Alice’s downfall.

“And here I was, thinking she was out gallivanting with some boy. Good to know.” She hoped her smile hadn’t faltered, or that if it had, Henry hadn’t noticed. He sneered at that and somehow it made the game she was playing worth it, despite the danger. She’d always been more reckless than was perhaps advisable.

She needed to weigh up her options. Seduction and trickery, the knife in the heel of her boot. Taking his knife and using it against him. 

“So,” She let the word hang there for a moment, trying to figure out what she could say to make Henry drop his guard. “We could both have some fun here, or you could kill me now and spend the rest of your evening scrubbing yourself clean of blood.” She ran her free hand up his thigh, squeezing his hip as she spoke. “I know which I’d prefer.” That was a lie. The thought of _that_ , Ruth suppressed a shudder. If it got that far she may well take Henry’s knife and do his job for him.

It worked though, the pressure at her throat easing slightly in his uncertainty, giving her enough leeway to turn to face him without the knife cutting her again. She leant back against his chest, smile coy even as her pinned arm ached at the added weight being put on it.

“Give a girl a good last night?” The words tasted rotten on her tongue. 

He hesitated for a moment, question lingering as he searched her face for malintent, before flicking the blade closed and slipping it into his pocket, knife tumbling to the floor as he closed the gap between them. 

She fought the urge to push him away, turning to face him fully now he’d let go of her arm instead. _Men_ , she thought, hooking a finger into his collar and tugging him towards the bed. _So easy to manipulate, if you knew how._ Henry’s hand slipped around her hip as they kissed, bile rising in her throat. He really thought she was going to let him touch her? 

Her heel bumped against the corner of the bedside table, causing the lamp standing on it to wobble slightly, and she smiled against his lips before breaking the kiss. 

In a fluid motion she turned to grab the lamp from the table and swung it, glass lampshade shattering as it connected with the side of his head with a thump. Henry stumbled, falling not from the force of the blow and Ruth hurried to slip the switchblade out her boot heel, silently thanking Alice for insisting on the adaptation. Her rib throbbed as she stalked towards him, flicking the blade into place. 

He was already on his knees, trying to stand before she could get to him. Too late. She grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his back and pinning it there, in the same uncomfortable position he’d put her in. She was done playing games. 

Ruth pressed the knife hard against his throat and he stilled slightly, the threat of a slit throat doing exactly what she’d intended. She leant in, making sure her breath would tickle his ear, just as he’d done to her. 

“Do me a favour. Don’t. Call me princess.” It was almost a snarl, dripping with venom, lacking any of the warmth her voice had held moments before. Henry froze, as if truly realising for the first time that he’d underestimated her. She would have enjoyed it, given different circumstances. If she hadn’t been caught off-guard. If she wasn’t resisting the urge to go wash any trace of his kiss away. 

If she didn’t have to decide what the fuck she was going to do with this guy.

What would Alice do?

If she was being honest, truly honest in a way she rarely was, even to herself, she knew the answer. And still she shied away from it, even as the man in front of her struggled against her grip as the effect of the blow to his head wore off. He wasn’t going to let them get away, not easily. She could almost hear Alice telling her to get it over and done with, that it was necessary. Alice had always been more ruthless than her, more willingly to make sacrifices for the job. _How ironic_ , she thought, fingers twitching around the knife, _that she was about to do something far worse than anything Alice had done before._

And with that thought, Ruth dropped the arm that she’d pinned behind Henry’s back, using her now free hand to pull his head back as she drew the blade back over the now taut skin of his throat. 

She stepped back, knife shining with blood as it clattered to the floor, and watched horrified as he reached for his throat, blood rushing from the cut and staining his hands as he tried uselessly to stop the bleeding. It was quieter than she’d expected, the gasping breaths as he slumped over and blood soaked into the carpet. 

It was the right decision, she told herself, repeated it like a mantra as the red patch grew and the man went silent. Unconscious, not dead, at least for now. Fuck, she really wished Alice was here. But here she was, alone, scrambling to figure out her next move as panic crawled up her throat, tears starting to blur her vision. 

Here she was, in the middle of committing murder, and all she could think was how much she wanted Alice here, safe and by her side, to hug her. _Pathetic. Utterly pathetic._

It was true, he’d been a horrible human being the few weeks she’d known him, though she couldn’t help but feel a slight disgust at her lack of compassion. _You didn’t even know him. He could have had a family. Monster._

At some point, she’d ended up on her knees, cheek streaked with blood where she’d wiped away her tears. Like she deserved to be upset for what she’d done. She’d never claimed to be a saint, had plenty of black marks against her names, real and otherwise. 

A murder was a little more than a small, black mark.

At least she’d had the mercy to make it quick.

By the time her head cleared a little, the size of the stain on the carpet had doubled. Her hand shook as she reached for the knife, gripping the hilt and turning it over, watching the shine of the blood for a moment before steeling herself and crawling towards Henry. 

There was a soft squelch as she moved, as the blood soaked carpet made her hands and knees wet with his blood. She grimaced at the sensation, barely acknowledging the way it stained her dress and skin, focused simply on getting close enough to roll him over and press two fingers to his neck, even as blood continued to seep out the wound and around the fingers pressed there, waiting for a pulse. Or rather, she supposed, the lack of one.

Nothing.

Ruth let out a slow, too-collected breath and straightened, flicking the still bloody switchblade closed and slipping it back into her shoe. 

She was burning this dress.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I created a whole playlist just so I could get in the right frame of mind to write this.  
> If figure I may as well share it, if anyone is interested in that.  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0zh1YW6YkNQo3zFzdOgb8R?si=d3BhO4KcTuGL2ppm_6vxBA


End file.
